Sunday 10 August 2014

Jacque Cousteau

 True to Manchester's reputation for rain we sit in Salford in very heavy precipitation, having cruised through the stuff for 2 hours getting thoroughly soaked, thanks to my New Zealand friend, who by definition is as tight as a duck's backside. Thus we can currently only communicate by text as his cell phone contract is Thailand based ( ? ) and calls apparently cost a fortune for both parties. Have you tried making arrangements to meet by text in a city neither of you know and one party is on a narrowboat? I thought not.
Anyway, via a series of misunderstandings on both sides I spent the morning getting soaked unnecessesarily. If I die of pneumonia Lynne has promised to sue on my behalf.
We got very wet once again when we moved mooring in Manchester for the last time ( hopefully ) to our present spot right next to the Trafford centre, one of the first and probably the largest shopping arcade in the country. I'll text my friend to tell him where we are and arrange a meeting point ( ? ) for later.

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